


What You Do To Me, My Darling

by Nixie_DeAngel



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Happy Ending, Insecure Steve Rogers, Kissing, M/M, Pining, Slight bit of Angst towards then end, Sometime after Civil War and Thanos but isn't addressed, Steve accidentally breaking things, because he's so distracted by Tony and his everything, but - Freeform, mentions of the avengers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-20 03:10:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17614301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixie_DeAngel/pseuds/Nixie_DeAngel
Summary: Flushing brightly, Steve glances around as his shoulder’s hunch inwards and moves to lean the door up against the wall before shuffling off to the side, so that the rest of the Avengers and Agents can walk into the conference room once they come back to themselves.Or, the four times Steve breaks things because of Tony, and the one time Tony does something about it.





	What You Do To Me, My Darling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LegendsofSnark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegendsofSnark/gifts), [Skulls_and_Webs (allofourkingsaredead)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofourkingsaredead/gifts).



* * *

 

Steve’s not actually aware what he’s done, not until he’s halfway embedded into the wall separating the kitchen and the hallway. Blinking rapidly, confused — and more than a little dazed — Steve feels his lips dip into a frown as Tony, Sam and Thor are suddenly just right  _there_ , faces pinched with concern as they help him out of the plaster.

He’s slow to focus as they free him from the wall and guide him over to sit on a stool. He’s vaguely aware of Sam sending Thor off to fetch Bruce, while he himself goes to fetch the first aid kit they keep in the kitchen — with Tony, Thor and Clint ever stepping into the kitchen, one was always needed on hand — he slowly focuses on Tony, standing in between his parted legs, with a worried frown on his face, as he gently runs his fingertips lightly up and down Steve’s arm — _checking the damage most likely_ , Steve thinks.

 

_He’d stepped off the elevator, lips stretching as a smile lit up his face when his eyes landed on Tony, standing just a few feet from the rest of the Avengers gathered for breakfast — it was Sam’s morning to cook, which meant they would get his Nana’s famous cinnamon rolls — when his ears registered the low, sultry tones as Tony rambles in Italian, hands weaving about as he gestures wildly while talking._

_He remembers faltering in his steps as a warmth curled low in his belly; he remembers letting his mind go in a daze—picturing all the things Tony could whisper in a hoarse, raspy voice, only broken up by whimpers and moans as Steve nibbles across his shoulder, soothing sharp bites with soft kisses before stopping to suck a dusty rose-colored nipple into his mouth — and then next thing he knows, he’s veering off from the direction of the doorway and stumbling straight through the wall._

 

Swallowing thickly, Steve blinks once, then twice as he feels a flush spreading across his cheeks, crawling down his neck, and his brain finally catches up on  _why_  he’d walked into the wall, in the first place.  _Oh no_ , he says in his mind as he realizes what he did and who he did it in front of.  _Oh no, Tony knows what an idiot I am_!

Bucky, the absolute  _bastard_ that he was, spends the next ten minutes, right along with Clint — also a bastard, Steve seethes quietly — bent in half, gaffing with laughter as they watch Sam pluck pieces of drywall from Steve’s arm. Tony frowns from where he and Peter are seated at the table.

So yeah, that’s the first time Steve breaks something because he gets so distracted by Tony doing something unexpected, and he’d love to say it’s his last time, but he’d be lying because after that, it just seems to get  _worse_.

 

* * *

 

The second time Steve gets distracted by Tony and ruins something, he does so by accidentally yanking a steel door straight off its hinges when at the new SHIELD head quarts. Cringing, he stands there uselessly holding the door in his left hand as everyone around him freezes on the spot, gaping at him, their eyes round and huge as they stare over at him.

Flushing brightly, Steve glances around as his shoulders hunch inwards, and moves to lean the door up against the wall as he shuffles off to the side, so that the rest of the Avengers and Agents can walk into the conference room once they come back to themselves. Ducking his head down, he shuffles into the room behind them and takes a seat towards the back as he keeps his eyes firmly on the wooden table avoiding anyone else’s eyes for the entire meeting.

 

_Steve grins as he reaches forward to pull the door open, glancing back just in time to watch as Tony’s face softens, eyes crinkling, his lips twist into a small, genuinely fond smile, something so rare Steve had only ever seen it twice in the years he’d known the genius._

_In that second, Steve feels the need to get his hands on either a pencil or charcoal or paints,_ on something _so he can capture Tony in this moment. The way he’s so at ease, so comfortable again as he’s surrounded by the team._

_Something that Tony hasn’t been in so long._

_Not since before Siberia._

_Since the Accords._

_Since_ before _._

_He feels the want to capture this singular moment crawl along his spine, the urge fierce and nearly debilitating as they want to immortalize the man,_ _this_ _man, burns within him._

_He feels his breath catch in his throat, Steve squeezes his hands tightly as he jerks back nearly half a step back. He cringes full bodily when he hears, and feels, the metal snapping from the wall along with him. Flicking his eyes over to where he still feels the steel in his grip, Steve nearly whimpers when he sees what he’s done now because of his infatuation with Tony._

 

After the meeting finishes, Steve shoots up, intent on escaping quickly but gets stopped by an agent who keeps him there to help hold the door in place for so they can reattach it to the frame. Sighing softly, he laments his inability to just be cool when caught off guard by Tony as he listens to several agents talk down to him as they berate him for not paying more attention to his abilities.

 

* * *

 

The third time, well, Steve’s pretty sure Tony’s catching on that  _he’s_  the reason Steve seems to randomly break things; and that’s mostly because Tony’s literally the only other person in the room when Steve snaps the oven door straight off its hinges — crumbling it in half — Steve thinks deliriously.

 

_Pulling open the door, Steve moves his hand down, just doing a quick test to feel how much heat the oven was giving off when he hears sock covered feet shuffling into the kitchen. Lips spreading into a wide grin as he heard the distinct sound of Tony’s shallowly breathes, Steve turned, knowing he’d be seeing the genius sleep rumbled but froze when he took in the genius in all his glory._

_Swallowing audibly as his eyes zeroed in on the black-rimmed glasses resting low on the bridge of his nose as he held a tablet close to his face, Steve can’t help but stare at the other man, at least for another three minutes when Tony seemed to finally realize that he wasn’t alone in the kitchen._

 

It’d been his smile, Steve thinks dumbly as he blinks slowly, turning to see the door dangling uselessly in his right hand.

No, no, no that wasn’t right. It’d been the smile and the  _glasses_ because Steve had spent weeks getting himself under control so he wouldn’t break stuff on accident when he caught sight of Tony’s lips curving up, softening his face. So it had to be the  _glasses_ and the smile, he muses as he keeps staring down at his hand and the door just, just hanging there.

It’s quiet for another moment before Tony awkwardly clears his throat, causing Steve’s eyes to snap up to meet his. He watches as the man shifts from foot to foot for a long moment before he opens his mouth, only to close before saying anything. It’s another moment before Tony tries again to speak, “Uh, Cap, um, are you, ah, are you okay there, Steve?”

Blinking slowly, Steve stares uselessly for another moment as he tightens his hands and looks down when he’s reminded about the door and lets his shoulders drop. “Sorry, Tony,” he rumbles thickly as he gently props the door on the floor up against the island. He turns to switches the over off and grabbing the apple cinnamon rolls he’d been planning on making for breakfast off the counter and stares for a moment. “I’ll just go make these in my kitchen.”

Steve glances only slightly up at Tony for a split second, taking in his confused frown before he scurries off and out of the kitchen as quick as he can.

 

* * *

 

Fourth time it happens, Steve wishes that one of Reed Richards experiments had gone haywire — seriously, any other day, Reed would have come through, but the one time Steve really needs him too, he leaves him high and dry — just so that Steve could’ve launched himself into the inevitable portal that would’ve opened above New York.

But no, Steve grosses as he presses his faces more firmly into his pillow, no Reed couldn’t have come through for him, just  _this once_ , because no, Steve couldn’t be that lucky. Not when he needed to be.

Flopping over onto his back, he brings his hands up to rub roughly at his face.

 _Being dramatic enough about this, huh, Stevie?_   He muses mulishly in his mind —voice sounding eerily like a mixture of Bucky and Sam— as he drops one arm over his eyes and moves the other to drum his fingers along his lower stomach.

Groaning, he presses his arm hard against his face as he replays the biggest fuck up he’d done since, since, God, Steve couldn’t even remember the last time he’d messed up this bad.

 

_He’d been enjoying a quiet evening in the tower, tucked up in his favorite reading nook on the communal floor with The Hobbit, when a voice had cleared drawing his attention. Lifting his head, he started smiling before freezing as his eyes landed on Tony._

_Tony who looked like he’d just stepped off the cover of some magazine, the likes of which Tony always accused him of being perfect to model for._

_Tony who was in a fitted dark blue suit, a crisp white dress shirt and a deep red tie._

_Tony who was dressed in Steve’s colors._

_Tony who was fidgeting like he was a nervous for some reason, as he asked in an unnaturally quiet voice, “What do you think?”_

_Trying to swallow was difficult with how dry his mouth and throat felt, but Steve tried twice before clearing his throat as he gently closed his book, setting it off to the side as he swung his legs off the bench and stood up._

_Steve crosses the room in a large, quick strides, Steve didn’t pause as he gently —always mindful just how much more fragile Tony, or anyone other than Thor, Bucky or Bruce was in his grip— wrapped his left hand around Tony’s hip, the right around his neck as he bent forward, presses their mouths together in a hungry, harsh kiss as he backed the smaller man up into the wall behind him._

_They’d stayed locked together, for who knew how long —only twenty minutes, Steve had checked later—when Friday had called out that Happy had arrived to pick Tony up for the gala this evening. Steve had backed up, eyes going wide in horror at what he’d done, apologies falling form his lips as he tripped over the edge of the couch and went fumbling ass over end, crashing into the glass coffee table. He only laid there for a moment before popping up and sprinting away._

 

God,  _why_  did he have to kiss him?  _Why_? Moving to roughly rub his hands across his face, he let out a long groan before turning to flop onto his stomach, smushing his face once again into his pillows. Tilting his head to glance at his alarm clock, Steve feels his stomach churn as he realizes he’s been in his room for over four hours wallowing in misery.

Swallowing back more self-pity, Steve pushes himself up and off the bed, shuffling through his floor to his kitchen. Though not every hungry, Steve also knows he can’t go much longer without eating something without risking getting the disapproving frown from Sam and Natasha.

Rummaging and coming up with nothing in his personal kitchen, Steve glances at the clock and debates the risk of traveling down to the communal floor to raid that kitchen or to just order in some take-out, before deciding it’d just be easier to risk the kitchen raid, rather than ordering take-out.

Making his way down and searching through the fridge, he decides on a couple of sandwiches after finding nothing else that catches his interest.

Steve’s half way through assembling his third one when a throat clears behind him, causing him to jump and fling the lettuce and cheese into the air as he spun around. He froze as his eyes landed on a disheveled Tony, who was leaning against the door frame.

Swallowing audible, Steve felt his body lock up as hi eyes widen and mouth drop slightly.

“Hey,” Tony says softly as he stays right where he is, watching Steve with a unreadable look on his face.

Flinching at the suddenness and loudness of his voice —even though Tony wasn’t being loud at all— Steve feels himself shrink in on himself, shoulders hunching and chin tucking into his chest and waits.

He waits for Tony to say that earlier was a mistake. That Tony had just been caught up in the moment, that he didn’t actually  _want_  Steve. Not like  _that_.

“Steve?”

He listens as Tony straightens up and pads quietly closer, only stopping when there’s about a foot of space between them. He can sort of see the way he fidgets, hands jerking up like he wants to reach out and touch Steve before he forces them back down to his sides.

He does that twice before Tony softly curses and reaches up, slowly as if he’s giving Steve the option to step back and away from Tony’s touch if he wants too.

Steve only wants to lean in, to reveal in the genius’ touch but doesn’t because this might be the last time he gets to be this close to Tony.

“Hey.” Tony gently cups Steve’s face, his thumb brushing lightly against his stubble covered cheek, and carefully lifts Steve’s head up so they can actually look at one another.

Tony’s face softens into a small smile when they’re eyes meet —Steve swears he feels his heart skip a beat when it happens— “Hey there.”

“Hi,” Steve feels himself breath out, body still riddled with tension.

Tony hums, tilting his head as he studies him for a long, quiet moment before he suddenly seems to come to some decision and leans up slowly, so slowly as if giving Steve the option to stop him — as if Steve would ever want to stop Tony — and presses as a tender kiss to Steve’s lips.

Steve lets his eyes flutter close, feels himself press into the smaller man, feels himself flush when he hears, and feels, himself whimper as Tony’s hand smooths back to tangle in his hair and deepens the kiss.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, but eventually Tony slowly pulls back enough to suck in a quick breath of air as Steve’s eyes slowly peel open. He realizes they’ve somehow maneuvered around the island when he registers the wall behind — and supporting — him.

Tilting just his head back, Tony grins widely, as he pries his hand off Steve’s hip and lifts it, gently tracing along his face. “So, I think we’ve got some things to talk about,” he murmurs, voice raspy and low, his eyes heavy with emotion.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [Nixie](http://nixie-deangel.tumblr.com/). Please don't be afraid to tell me what you think of this!


End file.
